TOW the love potion
by AEM77
Summary: Phoebe makes a love potion for Chandler to make him irresistible, but will everyone be affected?
1. Chapter 1

"I'm going to die alone," Chandler bemoans hurling himself into the cushions of the couch at Central Perk. His friends barely register the remark having heard it plenty of times before and with increasing regularity since Chandler's split with Kathy. "Really," he stresses, "I'm going to be one of those guys you read about in the newspapers. You know, where no one finds them for weeks and weeks and when they do their bodies have been eaten by their many, many cats. That's gonna be me, eaten-by-my-cats guy."

"Come on dude," Joey says setting aside the comic book he's been reading. "Cats? If you're gonna get eaten by pets at least make it dogs. Then you're getting eaten like a man."

Monica who sits between him and his roommate nods adamantly in agreement.

"You too?" Chandler accuses her with a pointed look. "Look, does it really matter? I could be eaten by goldfish for all I care. It's the dying alone part that I'm kinda bummed about. "

He's about to elaborate on his untimely and unnoted demise, when he's interrupted by Phoebe who arrives at just that moment heading to the open armchair nearly taking off his head with the guitar she haphazardly totes along.

"What's going on?" She asks plopping down to join her friends.

"Chandler's gonna die alone and be eaten by a bunch of cats," Joey explains. "Like a woman," he adds for good measure raising an eyebrow meaningfully at his roommate.

"Yeah, I could see that." Phoebe agrees earning a glare from Chandler.

Ignoring his scowl, she continues her assent, bobbing her head along, "Yeah, yeah," before suddenly announcing with a start, "Oh wait, no, no. I've got it!"

"You've got what? Rhythm? Music? My gal?" Chandler asks in rapid succession.

"Okay, _you_ watch too many musicals," Phoebe accuses pointing a finger at Chandler before adding, "Probably not helping you on the dating front. No, I have the perfect solution. So you don't die alone."

"Great," Chandler says with enthusiasm. "Hit me."

"Metaphorically," he adds rubbing his arm where she's reached across the space between her seat and the couch to smack him.

"Phoebe's Fabulous Love Tonic," she announces drawing out the vowel sounds seductively. They all look at her skeptically so she continues, "Uh-huh. 100% effective."

"Really," she reiterates picking up on the disbelieving stares of her friends.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Pheebs," Chandler answers

"Oh c'mon Chandler. It will be fun," Phoebe pouts.

"Yeah, no. I don't think that's for me," Chandler says clearly trying to excuse himself without hurting the feelings of his eccentric friend.

"Of course its for you," Phoebe exclaims oblivious to Chandler's discomfort. "You can't buy a date now, but after a few sips of my tonic, you'll be beating them off with a stick."

"Whoa, whoa," Joey says suddenly interested, "That sounds kinky. I want in!"

"You? Are you kidding?" Phoebe laughs, "You've got enough women on your plate as it is Joey. I wouldn't want to see what my tonic would do to _you_. Chandler on the other hand…"

"Alright, alright," Chandler agrees in embarrassment as Monica pats his back sympathetically, "I'll drink your stupid drink."

"Great!" Phoebe exclaims without the slightest hint of having been insulted. "Let's all meet at Monica and Rachel's tonight. Let's say 7."

"Hold on," Monica interjects offended, "How do you know we don't have plans tonight? We could have hot dates for all you know."

They all stare at her blankly for a moment before Monica grudgingly concedes, "Okay, fine. But make it 7:30 and I'll make some brownies."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"I don't know about this Phoebe," Chandler says nervously looking down at the strange concoction steeping on the coffee table in the girl's living room. "Is it supposed to steam so much?

"Is it steaming?" Phoebe asks in alarm, rushing in from the kitchen. "Hmm, that's new," she mutters to herself before taking in Chandler's terrified face and adding unconvincingly, "But I'm sure it's fine."

"Okay," Chandler begins backing slowly out of the living room and towards the front door, "this has been fun but I think I'm gonna pass, Pheebs."

"No, no, no," Phoebe admonishes roughly retrieving her friend and returning him once more to a seat on the couch in front of the now steamless yellow brew. "Trust me on this one. It's totally going to work. Back when I was living on the streets I made it for my friend Toad and…"

"Toad?" Ross interrupts.

"Yeah, we called him Toad on account of his terrible acne," Phoebe explains, "and he sort of had green ashy skin. He was huffing a lot of glue back then," she adds conversationally.

"And this glue-huffing, acne-having, frog man found love did he?" Chandler asks sardonically.

"Yes he did," Phoebe replies emphasizing each word with a sharp jab to Chandler's shoulder. "He was totally irresistible. Everyone at the shelter was all over him for days. Gladys, she used to feed the pigeons in Central Park, by the fountain," Phoebe pauses looking around expectantly. Then continuing when it becomes clear the other five haven't taken the time to notice Gladys before, "anyway, she never gave Toad the time of day before my tonic and now the two share a tent under the viaduct," she finishes triumphantly

"That's so sweet," Joey gushes clearly moved by Phoebe's tale of true love. "C'mon buddy," he encourages taking a seat next to a still reluctant looking Chandler, "What do you have to lose?"

"My stomach lining?" Chandler answers wryly.

"Seriously," Rachel joins in sitting on the other side of the couch and raising the mug to Chandler, "you haven't been with anyone in forever. Give it a try."

"Thanks for that," Chandler says sarcastically, though taking the mug from her hands.

"Besides, I want to see what happens," Rachel admits.

"There it is," Chandler says pointing accusingly at his friend. "And what about the rest of you?" He asks the others who have surrounded the couch now and are looking at him expectantly. "Want to treat me like a guinea pig for your own amusement?"

"Yes, please," Monica answers brightly as Ross nods along in agreement.

"Just drink it, you sissy." Phoebe demands.

"Alright," Chandler acquiesces. "Down the hatch."


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey Monica," Chandler smiles winningly at her over the door of the fridge. "How's it going?"

"Okay?" She answers in confusion reaching into the top shelf and pulling out a carton of eggs as he continues to grin madly at her.

"Notice anything different about me?" Chandler continues moving to allow for her to shut the refrigerator and following her to the stove where she begins mixing the ingredients for pancakes. "Am I perhaps more attractive or charming than you remember?" He asks hopefully.

She grins now and reaches up to muss his already pretty messy hair, "Nope. Just as handsome and charming as yesterday."

"Dang," he mutters in defeat moving now from her personal space to plop himself into one of the dining chairs. "I suppose this means Phoebe's love potion didn't work. I'm just the same old _resistible_ Chandler of old."

"I guess so," Monica agrees from the kitchen. Then looking back and realizing how sad he seems she adds kindly "Would the same old Chandler like some pancakes?"

"Yes, please," he answers perking up a bit.

The two friends sit chatting companionably as the smell of Monica's cooking begins to fill the apartment.

"You know," Chandler says as Monica starts to bring the first plateful to the table, "We should probably expect Joey any minute now."

The two hold each other's gazes as Monica nods in agreement, counting down upon her hand, "five, four, three, two…"

At one, the door to apartment twenty flings open and the man himself enters energetically.

"Hiya, Mon. Do I smell pancakes?" Joey doesn't seem to notice or mind the laughter that erupts from his friends at his entrance.

"Fresh off the griddle," Monica explains placing a heaping stack in front of Joey who's taken a seat at the table next to Chandler.

"Morning, Joe," Chandler greets, eyes still on the newspaper in front of him.

"How you doing?" Joey all but purrs in return.

Something in Joey's tone grabs Chandler's attention and he looks up from his paper to find his friend gazing at him with hooded eyes and a crooked grin. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks in confusion.

"Like what?" Joey asks seductively.

"Like I'm a giant meatball sub," Chandler retorts starting to feel very uncomfortable with his friend's attention. "Are you okay," he asks placing his hand upon Joey's arm in concern.

The small gesture seems to snap Joey out of whatever trance he's been in, as his face goes from flirty to panicked in a second.

"Aagh!" Joey exclaims jumping from his seat so quickly it tips and falls behind him. "What…? Why…?" He asks Monica desperately gesturing to a bewildered Chandler still sitting at the table.

"I gotta get out of here," Joey finally announces in a panic and without another word he charges from the room leaving the front door wide open behind him.

"What in the world?" Monica asks as she squats beside the table to pick up the fallen chair.

"What's going on with Joey?" Ross asks by way of greeting as he makes his way through the open door of his sister's apartment, discarding his jacket and briefcase on the counter before taking a seat in the recently righted chair. "He was muttering something about needing to see naked ladies out in the hallway."

"He didn't even eat my pancakes," Monica remarks moving the discarded plate towards her brother. "Want em?"

"I don't want to be alarmist, but I'm pretty sure Joey passing on food is one of the seven signs of the apocalypse. Mon, why don't you turn on the taps and see if they're running blood yet. This is some end-of-days stuff here."

Monica chuckles softly at her friend's joke, but the sound is totally overwhelmed by the large guffaw that explodes out of her brother. "End of…end of days," Ross repeats through tears barely composing himself to get the words out. "Did you hear, Mon? End-of-days. Chandler, you are so funny!" Ross gushes.

"Thanks," Chandler responds cautiously. "But let's not hyperventilate over there, okay buddy."

"Hyperventilate!" Ross echoes gleefully with a fresh burst of giggles. "So witty! How do you do that? Monica, are you listening to this guy? He's hilarious."

"Um, yeah. I'm listening," she replies, then more quietly so that only Chandler can hear, "listening to my brother being an idiot."

"So Chandler," Ross begins nervously feigning nonchalance as he pushes a bite of pancake aimlessly around his plate, "Whatcha doing today? Do you want to, I don't know, come by the museum or something? I could even let you touch a real dinosaur bone," he adds excitedly. "Would you like that?"

Chandler just looks helplessly over to Monica, his face twisted in a comical mix of terror and confusion. Taking pity on him, Monica gently helps her brother from the table and leads him to the door, "Okay, Ross time to go to work now." She hands him his things whilst opening the door and nudging him out into the hallway. Chandler can hear their conversation drifting through the open door.

"Monica! I was talking to Chandler!"

"You were being crazy, Ross. Trust me, I'm doing you a favor."

"You're embarrassing me in front of Chandler!"

"Bye, Ross. Bye now."

When Monica renters her apartment she finds Chandler pacing back and forth behind the sofa.

"What the hell was that?" She asks.

"I think it worked."

"What worked?" Monica asks in confusion.

"Phoebe's Fantastic Sex Juice! Or whatever the hell she called it. It's making me irresistible!"

"Fabulous Love Tonic," Monica corrects. "And it didn't work. One," she begins to explain, "there's no such thing as a love potion. And two, I'm not fawning all over you like Joey and Ross were. So it can't have worked."

"That's true," he concedes sounding a little disappointed. They stand for a few moments in silent contemplation before Chandler gasps, "Oh no."

"What?" Monica asks startled by her friend's suddenly ashy complexion.

"What if it worked but Phoebe did it wrong? Like she gave me the one that makes you irresistible to dudes instead of ladies?" He starts pacing once again before blurting out again, "What if she did it right but the potion thinks I'm gay? Oh my God, what if I _am_ gay?" He finishes by throwing himself into the armchair in the living room and dragging his hands across his face in a panic.

"You're not gay," an exasperated Monica tells him. It's kind of ridiculous how many times she's had to have this conversation with her friend.

"Quick, flash me," he tells her seriously.

"What? No! I'm not gonna flash you!"

"Please," he begs. "It's the only way to know for sure."

"Explain to me how showing you my breasts is going to confirm you aren't gay," she demands coming into the living room herself and sitting on the couch nearest to him.

"Believe me Mon," he tells her reverently. "No one even a little straight could look at those," he gestures to her chest, "and not feel something."

Monica's not sure if she should be offended or flattered by this so she settles for playfully swatting his arm instead.

"You know what we need?"

"Strip club," he answers confidently.

"No. And get your mind out of the gutter," she warns before continuing. "We need Phoebe. Where is she anyway?"

After a few more minutes of Chandler unsuccessfully bidding to have Monica take off her shirt, the question is answered by the arrival of none other of than Phoebe herself.

"Witch!" Chandler announces rising from his seat and pointing at his friend accusingly.

"It worked!" Phoebe exclaims delightedly completely ignoring Chandler's outrage, "Look at you!"

"Yeah," Chandler rages, "but you did it wrong. I'm only attractive to…"

He's about to explain to that he's only been managing to snare the attentions of his male friends when he's abruptly interrupted by Phoebe charging across the room and kissing him firmly on the mouth.

Chandler stands frozen in shock for a moment before roughly disengaging himself from Phoebe's embrace.

"Phoebe!" Monica and Chandler exclaim in unison.

"Oh my God, Chandler. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Just kissed you without any warning and with Monica here too. I'm sorry. Really." She placates while patting him on the shoulder. However, a dreamy look comes into her eyes as her pats evolve into caresses. "What do you say we go talk this over somewhere a little more private. Monica, can we use your room?" She asks, already pulling a terrified Chandler along towards Monica's bedroom.

"Oh we're going to talk alright," Chandler corrects her standing his ground and forcibly tugging Phoebe back to the living room. "We are going to use our mouths for talking," he stresses holding Phoebe at bay as she tries once again to kiss him, "and we're going to figure out what the hell is happening."

Chandler all but yells this last bit in part out of frustration over the situation but also in an attempt to redirect Phoebe's attention to his words rather than the buttons of his dress shirt that she's begun undoing. The commotion he and Phoebe are causing has the problematic effect of finally waking Rachel who'd been sleeping through the excitements of the morning.

"Would you please keep it down out here?" Rachel yells flinging her bedroom door open wide and standing with hands on hips as she stares down the occupants of the living room. Her harsh stare remains intact sweeping past Monica and Phoebe till finally landing on Chandler where it undergoes a rapid and comic transformation. "Chandler," she whispers, "I didn't see you there." She steps forward to wrap her arms around Chandler's free arm not being held by Phoebe and sidles her body alongside his.

As the two women begin what can only be described as a tug of war over him, Chandler looks over to Monica and begs miserably, "A little help here, Mon?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! Here's the conclusion. I hope you enjoy!**

Monica gives a little laugh as she watches her girlfriends tugging a miserable looking Chandler back and forth between them. She's just about to intervene when they are interrupted by Ross who steps through the front door at that moment with a brown paper bag in hand.

"Chandler," he begins oblivious to the chaos in the living room, "I was at the coffee shop getting coffee, well obviously what else would I be doing there, right?" he rambles nervously. "Anyway, I saw they had those blueberry muffins you like so much. There was only one left so I thought..." Ross trails off as he takes in the foursome before him. "What's going on?"

Rolling her eyes at her brother Monica decides to take matters into hand and declares loudly, "Alright, that's enough." She disentangles Chandler from Rachel and Phoebe's grasps, a surprisingly difficult task that involves quite a bit of smacking and threatening, and places him protectively behind her.

"You three," she tells her brother and friends in her sternest voice, "have a seat and wait right here." Though there's quite a bit of grumbling the friends slowly make their way to the couch.

"And you," she spins around poking Chandler in the chest, "you come with me."

"Hey, what did I do?" Chandler asks rubbing the now sore spot on his chest. Nonetheless he follows her obediently out of the apartment and across the hall to his door.

After a moment or two of knocking they hear Joey ask sheepishly, "Who is it?"

"It's Monica and Chandler," she explains. "We're coming in."

"Um, not really a good time," Joey begins.

Ignoring him, Monica twists the doorknob and throws open the door to reveal Joey sitting at the breakfast counter where a dirty magazine lies open before him.

"Hey!" Joey exclaims trying to quickly hide the Playboy from view. However after a moment Joey seems to realize the fruitlessness of the endeavor and brandishes the magazine at his friends instead. "Alright you caught me. It's a nudie magazine, full of picture of beautiful naked women. Women," he stresses carefully avoiding Chandler's eye. "Because that's what I like to see. This," he shoves the magazine into Monica's view and she is momentarily accosted by the image of a naked woman sitting in a posture that must be incredibly uncomfortable, "is what gets Joey Tribbiani's lasagna bubbling!"

"Its fine, Joey. I know you're in love with Chandler," Then before he can protest further she adds, "Everybody is. It's that stupid drink of Phoebe's."

"Oh yeah," Joey exclaims in relief, "The love juice! I forgot all about that." He seems much more at ease now that Monica's provided him with an explanation for his new unwanted feelings towards his roommate, even glancing at Chandler for the first time since that morning. Now taking in the scene of the two of them standing together a look of confusion comes over his face, "But what about you? How come your not all gooey over him," Joey asks suspiciously.

"I don't know," Monica admits. "But I'm going to figure it out. Now go across the hall and wait with the rest of the fan club. I'll be over as soon as I figure out what to do with Casanova here."

Once she's safely deposited Chandler in his barca with an assurance that he'll stay put till she's gotten more information from Phoebe about the strength and duration of the effects of her tonic, Monica makes her way back across the hall where she finds her friends deeply engaged in a discussion of Chandler's many attributes.

"Those eyes, though," Rachel says in a throaty exhale. "Have they always been that blue?"

"I like his mouth," Joey contributes. "It's kinda pouty, you know? But then when he smiles. Whoa. It's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds."

Rather than the chorus of giggles that ought to greet Joey's sentiment the rest of her friends just nod in earnest agreement. Phoebe is just beginning what promises to be a very thorough discussion of the pertness of Chandler's butt when Monica thinks its best to intervene.

"Phoebe, what in the world did you put in that drink?" Monica asks making her presence known to the others and coming to sit amongst them in the living room.

"Nice try, Monica," Phoebe snorts derisively, "but I'm not giving away my trade secrets!"

"God, Pheebs. I don't want to make _more_ of it," Monica explains. "I just want to know what you did to Chandler!"

"I didn't _do_ anything to Chandler," Phoebe counters. "All the tonic does is make what's already great about a person more obvious. _He's_ no different then before, we're all just super aware of all his very best qualities. Like his _butt_." She finishes meaningfully clearly intent on discussing this part of Chandler's anatomy.

Several minutes and a few diagrams quickly jotted on a discarded envelope later, Phoebe seems to have finally exhausted herself on the topic of Chandler's posterior.

Joey and Ross seem particularly thankful to change topic not fully comfortable with their newfound physical attraction to their male friend. However when it comes to discussing the positive aspects of Chandler's personality, they are nearly as bad as Phoebe.

"He's just so witty, you know?" Ross enthuses. "His mind is so quick, like if I had a staff of comedians working for weeks I couldn't come up with half the stuff he does spur of the moment."

"And kind," Joey stresses. "He takes such good care of all of us. Always making sure I'm eating right and that I've got pocket money."

"And so supportive," Rachel adds. "He's always the first one to pick up on when one of us is feeling down or needing something."

Monica, who has been listening to all this quietly with a mixture of amazement and amusement, gives a derisive snort that grabs the attention of the others briefly derailing their discussion.

"What?" Rachel asks defensively.

"Do you guys honestly mean to tell me that you've never noticed any of this stuff about Chandler before?"

"What do you mean?" Ross asks.

"I mean Chandler has been paying your rent for forever," she explains jumping up from her seat and pointing at Joey on the couch. "He's been cracking jokes since the day you met him in college," she says turning to Ross. "He's been cheering you up since you turned up at Central Perk in your wedding dress," she continues turning on Rachel. "And he's had blue eyes and a cute butt for forever," she finishes staring defiantly at Phoebe.

"Oh my God," Phoebe exclaims standing and pointing at Monica a look of sudden understanding on her face. "I totally get it now!"

"What?" Monica asks feeling suddenly embarrassed by her outburst.

"You like him!" Phoebe accuses.

"What?" Monica shrieks cheeks flaring pink.

"That's why she's not affected by my tonic," she explains to the others ignoring Monica's protests. "If she's been resisting her attraction for years she's not going to suddenly feel any different now. God, its so obvious now that I think about it. You're so obvious!" She finishes smiling happily at a mortified Monica.

"That's crazy!" Monica deflects. "You're crazy. This is crazy." She knows she isn't being especially eloquent but Phoebe is being totally nuts right now.

When they all continue to stare at her suspiciously she adds vehemently, "I don't like Chandler, you guys!"

"Alright, alright," Phoebe concedes flopping back into the armchair once more. "You don't like Chandler. But you should because he's amazing. Did we talk about his butt yet?"

They have of course but none of them seem particularly reluctant to begin again, so Monica interrupts them once more to get to the important part of this conversation.

"Phoebe, how long is this going to go on for?"

"Well with Toad, he had folks after him for a day or two but I put a lot more of Chandler's hair in this last brew than I did with Toad. He was balding," she confides in an aside to the others before continuing, "so maybe till the weekend?"

The disclosure of this particular ingredient of Phoebe's tonic elicits a gag from Monica, but the others just nod agreeably as Rachel adds with a sigh, "Chandler's got great hair."

Leaving the others to their seemingly endless discussion of Chandler's charms, Monica heads across the hall to catch Chandler up on her conversation with the others.

She steps into apartment nineteen to find him where she'd left him with the addition of the chick and duck who have come to perch on his lap.

"Apparently this stuff works on fowl too," he says with a shrug gently repositioning his pets and rising to stand beside her at the foosball table. He begins idly spinning the little men around and she steps up across from him to do the same. Silently they seem to agree to play as she places the little white ball along the midline and keeps her eyes focused on the game as she begins to tell him about the conversation happening across the hall.

"So worse comes to worse everyone will just have to steer clear of you for the next few days and everything will be back to normal by the weekend." She looks up now at him to see his reaction to this news and is struck by how sad he looks.

"You okay?" She prods.

"Yeah," he sighs. "It's just, this sucks. You know? I thought it would be so much cooler to be desired by everyone but it just sucks." He sighs deeply before adding suddenly. "Hey, this must be how it feels to be you all the time, huh?"

"What?" She asks confused.

"You know, being the most beautiful person in the room all the time. The one everyone wants to talk to and be around. It must kinda suck."

"You think I'm the most beautiful person in the room?"

"I mean, of course. It's not really an opinion, Mon. You just are." He says all this like it's a well-established fact and without any hint of trying to flatter. It makes her heart feel a bit too large in her chest and she's reminded of Phoebe's accusation from earlier.

Without really thinking about it she walks slowly around the table and raises her hands to place them on either side of his face holding him still. She looks deeply into his eyes as if waiting for some kind of answer to appear before raising herself up to kiss him.

For a second she thinks he's going to push her away like he'd done earlier with Phoebe, but after a moment his hands come to cup her face and bring her closer. Her whole body is tingling and her mind is buzzing and it feels so wonderful and surreal that the only thing she regrets is that she doubts she'll be able to remember every crazy sensation running through her later when its over.

When they do finally break apart they remain pressed so close together that she can feel his breath on her face as he whispers, "What was that for?"

For a second she considers telling the truth but she's not really sure what that is yet. So instead she lies, "I guess the potion must be having a delayed effect on me."

Her words seem to break the spell they've both been under and they break quickly apart. She isn't sure if she's relieved or disappointed when she moves to the other side of the foosball table and he doesn't make a move to stop her.

"So…sorry about that," she begins nervously running her hand through her hair and studiously gazing down at the little plastic men still wobbling slightly from when they'd pressed themselves against the table. "I guess I should probably head back to the others, quarantine myself," she finishes wryly and hazards a peek at him to see him smile slightly at her words.

"Sure," Chandler agrees. "I guess I'll see you in a few days."

"Yeah, see you." She opens the door to leave but hesitates in the doorway to peer back at him.

After a moment though she seems to make up her mind and turns to leave shutting the door behind her.

Once he's certain she's left for good, Chandler collapses into his lounger and grins madly at the duck and chicken who begin making their way back to his side.

"Give it some time, you guys," he tells them happily. "In six months that girl and I will be sharing a tent under the viaduct. I guarantee it!"


End file.
